HEARING THE TRUTH
David Steel stood contemplating the weird scene with almost doubting
eyes. In his wildest moments he had never imagined anything more dramatic
than this. The candle in its silver sconce that Mrs. Henson had snatched
up before her flight was perilously near her flimsy dress. Henson caught
her once more in a fierce grip. David could stand it no longer. As Henson
came by him his right arm flashed out, there was a dull thud, and Henson,
without having the least idea what had happened, fell to the ground, with
a very hazy idea of his surroundings for a moment or two.
Equally unconscious that she had a protector handy, Mrs. Henson turned
and fled for the house. A minute later and she was followed by Henson,
still puzzling his racking head to know what had happened. David would
have followed, but the need for caution flashed upon him. If he stood
there perfectly still Henson would never know who his antagonist was.
David stood there waiting. As he glanced round he saw some little object
glittering near to his feet. It was the ruby ring!
"Be you there, sir?" a rusty voice whispered close by.
"I am, Williams," David replied; "I have been waiting for some time."
Williams chuckled, making no kind of apology for his want of punctuality.
"I've been looking after our man, sir," he said. "That Dutch chap what
Miss Enid said you'd come for. And I saw all that business in the
shrubbery just now. My! if I didn't feel good when you laid out Henson on
the grass. The sound of that smack was as good as ten years' wages for
me. And he's gone off to his room with a basin of vinegar and a ream of
brown paper. Why didn't you break his neck?"
David suggested that the law took a prejudiced view of that kind of
thing, and that it would be a pity to hang anyone for such a creature as
Reginald Henson.
"Our man is all right?" he asked.
"As a trivet," said Williams. "Sleeping like a baby; he is in my own
bed over the stable. I'll show you into the harness-room, where Miss
Enid's waiting for you, sir, and then I'll go and see as Henson don't
come prowling about. Not as he's likely to, considering the clump on
the side of the head you gave him. I take it kind of Providence to let
me see that!"
Williams hobbled away, chuckling to himself and followed by David. There
was a feeble oil-lamp in the harness-room. Enid was waiting there
anxiously.
"So you have put Henson out of the way for a time," she said. "He passed
me just now using awful language, and wondering how it had all come
about. Wasn't it a strange thing that Van Sneck should come here?"
"Not very," David said. "He is evidently looking for his master,
Reginald Henson. I have not the slightest doubt that he has been here
many times before. Williams says he is asleep. Pity to wake him just
yet, don't you think?"
"Perhaps it is. But I am horribly afraid of our dear friend Reginald, all
the same."
"Our dear Reginald will not trouble us just yet. He came down as far as
London with Bell. Of course he had heard the news of Van Sneck's flight.
Was he disturbed?"
"I have never seen him in such a passion before, Mr. Steel. And not only
was he in a passion, but he was horribly afraid about something. And he
has made a discovery."
"He hasn't found out that your sister--"
"Is at Littimer Castle? That is really the most consoling part of the
business. He has been at Littimer for a day or two, and he has not the
remotest idea that Christabel Lee is our Chris."
"A feather in your sister's cap. She has quite captivated Littimer,
Bell says."
"And she played her part splendidly. Mr. Steel, it is very, very good to
know that Hatherly has cleared himself in the eyes of Lord Littimer at
last. Did Reginald suspect--"
"Nothing," Steel said. "He is utterly and hopelessly puzzled over the
whole business. And Bell has managed to convince him that he is not
suspected at all. That business over the Rembrandt was really a brilliant
bit of comedy. But what has Henson found out?"
"That Chris is not dead. He has seen Walker and the undertaker. But he
does not know yet that Dr. Bell was in the house that eventful night,
which is a blessing. As a matter of fact, Reginald has not been quite the
same man since Rollo nearly killed him that exciting evening. His nerves
seem to be greatly shaken."
"That is because the rascal feels the net closing round him," Steel said.
"It was a fine stroke on your sister's part to win over that fellow
Merritt to her side. I supplied the details per telephone, but the plot
was really Miss Chris's. How on earth should we have managed without the
telephone over this business?"
"I am at a loss to say," Enid smiled. "But tell me about that plot. I am
quite in the dark as to that side of the matter."
David proceeded to explain his own and Chris's ingenious scheme for
getting Merritt into their power. Enid followed the story with vast
enjoyment, tempered with the fact that Henson was so near.
"I should never have thought of that," she said; "but Chris was always so
clever. But tell me, what was Henson doing in the garden just now?
Williams says he was illtreating my aunt, but that seems hardly possible
even for Reginald."
"It was over a ring that Mrs. Henson had," David explained. "She was
running away with it, and Henson was trying to get it back. You see--"
"A ring!" Enid gasped. "Did you happen to see it? Oh, if it is only--.
But he would not be so silly as that. A ring is the cause of all the
trouble. _Did_ you see it?"
"I not only saw it but I have it in my possession," David replied.
Enid turned up the flaring little lamp with a shaking hand. Quite
unstrung, she held out her fingers for the ring.
"It is just possible," she said, hoarsely, "that you possess the key of
the situation. If that ring is what I hope it is we can tumble Henson
into the dust to-morrow. We can drive him out of the country, and he will
never, never trouble us again. How did you get it?"
"Mrs. Henson dropped it and I picked it up."
"Please let me see it," Enid said, pleadingly. "Let me be put out of
my misery."
David handed the ring over; Enid regarded it long and searchingly. With a
little sigh of regret she passed it back to David once more.
"You had better keep it," she said. "At any rate, it is likely to be
valuable evidence for us later on. But it is not the ring I hoped to see.
It is a clever copy, but the black pearls are not so fine, and the
engraving inside is not so worn as it used to be on the original. It is
evidently a copy that Henson has had made to tease my aunt with, to offer
her at some future date in return for the large sums of money that she
gave him. No; the original of that ring is popularly supposed to be at
the bottom of the North Sea. If such had been the case--seeing that
Henson had never handled it before the Great Tragedy came--the original
must be in existence."
"Why so?" David asked.
"Because the ring must have been copied from it," Enid said. "It is a
very faithful copy indeed, and could not have been made from mere
directions--take the engraving inside, for instance. The engraving forms
the cipher of the house of Littimer, If Henson has the real ring, if we
can find it, the tragedy goes out of our lives for ever."
"I should like to hear the story," said Steel.
Enid paused and lowered the lamp as a step was heard outside. But it was
only Williams.
"Mr. Henson is in his bedroom still," he said. "I've just taken him the
cigars. He's got a lump on his head as big as a billiard-ball. Thinks he
hit it against a branch. And my lady have locked herself in her room and
refused to see anybody."
"Go and look at our patient," Enid commanded.
Williams disappeared, to return presently with the information that Van
Sneck was still fast asleep and lying very peacefully.
"Looks like waiting till morning, it do," he said. "And now I'll go back
and keep my eye on that 'ere distinguished philanthropist."
Williams disappeared, and Enid turned up the lamp again. Her face was
pale and resolute. She motioned David towards a chair.
"I'll tell you the story," she said. "I am going to confide in you the
saddest and strangest tale that ever appealed to an imaginative
novelist."